Wherein, Rachel sets things on fire, Santana yells, and Kurt shrieks
by celaenos
Summary: Some random domestic Kurcheltana. Or, two and a half gays try to live together without killing each other. (written under my old name 12wallflower)


**I got some anons giving me prompts for fic on tumblr to help me get back into writing and out of my writer's block. This is a little rough, my apologizes, I'm easing back into it. **

**The anon asked for: some snippets of domestic kurcheltana ie: Kurt, Rachel and Santana. so...hope you enjoy. **

So.

Rachel Berry turns out to not be _as_ horribly high maintenance as she had imagined. The move in had been a bit of a whim, Santana is not above admitting that. About eight seconds after she whisked into the Hummel-Berry apartment it suddenly hit her that she just decided to make Kurt and Rachel her roommates. _Kurt _and _Rachel_. The single two most high maintenance people she knows; in her entire life. She had initially thought Rachel would be the worst of the two, she had been wrong. Very wrong.

She pounded on the bathroom door yet again and Kurt only chirped out "one minute." Santana was gonna wring his skinny goddamn neck if she wasn't able to pee in the next four seconds. Before she could figure out what exact maneuver it took to knock a door off it's hinges, Berry strolled up and knocked primly on the door.

"Kurt, Santana has to urinate and you can moisturize out here. Leave before we have to figure out how to pay for a new bathroom door." She ordered and then hopped back into the kitchen to finish making vegan pancakes.

"Alright already." Kurt opened the door and attempted to glare at Santana, then thought the better off it and moved out of her way.

"I've made a huge mistake." Santana muttered to herself as she slammed the door closed.

* * *

So.

Rachel as a roommate is something Kurt can understand. He admits he was slightly awful to her on a number of occasions before they really became friends, but now that they are, he can't really imagine living with anyone else. They coordinate everything perfectly, and compliment each other in ways he hadn't thought about. They are both clean and neat and neither leaves much of a mess around for long.

Santana thoroughly and fabulously shattered that.

The night of her arrival, Kurt was vehemently against putting her up for more than a few days. When she fell asleep on the couch, Kurt barreled into Rachel's bedroom, "she _cannot_ stay" he whispered harshly.

"Kurt!" Rachel chastised. "She is our friend and she is in need of our help. We can't just toss her out onto the streets! Our apartment is big enough for three, we'll just have to move stuff around."

"Rachel, when has Santana Lopez ever been your friend? Really? We are not obligated to help her out, she can stay until she finds a place of her own."

"No." Rachel shook her head as Kurt sat down onto the edge of her bed. "Kurt, you know as well as I that Santana is our friend – now at least – and it might be fun to have another roommate!" Kurt gave her a look of disbelief. "Well...it might not be horrible and I won't kick her out." Rachel said defiantly.

Kurt huffed and stood up after the two of them stared each other down for almost a full minute. "When this comes back to bite us in the ass, I _am_ going to say 'I told you so' and I am going to enjoy it." He then proceeded to make his dramatic exit from Rachel's room, pausing only at her light laughter.

"My storm outs are better." Rachel called out with a grin.

Kurt didn't bother to dignify that with a response.

* * *

So.

Rachel might not have thought this through fully.

Kurt and Santana were glaring at each other while Rachel tried not to set their kitchen on fire and feed all three of them at the same time. She didn't think it was all that fair that she was being forced to behave like a grown up when the two of them had been constantly bickering like a pair of five year olds. Rachel was an only child and had no frame of reference for this current situation, so she relied on what she had seen in the movies.

She hit both of them with a spatula.

It certainly shut them both up. For about nine seconds, and then all hell broke loose. Santana began yelling in spanish and Kurt's voice raised to dangerously high pitches. Rachel made a snap decision to ignore the both of them and continue making their dinner. Largely because the pasta was somehow actually on fire.

Santana ignored the fire and continued to scream incoherently, and Kurt's high pitched yelling turned into shrieks as he jumped to help Rachel.

"Don't hit it with a towel Rachel are you insane!" He screamed. Rachel jumped back and dropped the burning towel and joined Kurt in shrieking and uselessly flapping at the fire with random objects.

Rachel screamed loudly as Santana grabbed her around the waist and hauled her out of the way, giving Kurt a much less friendly shove; she stomped the burning towel out, quickly turned the flame down on the stove and turned around to glare at Rachel and Kurt. "You bitches are so incompetent." She stated while crossing her arms. "Also Berry, I think you singed part of your hair off."

"What! Where!?" Rachel ran over to the mirror in the hall and furiously began pulling her hair around for inspection.

"Don't call me incompetent." Kurt complained.

"Seriously? You two idiots just about set our home on fire."

"_Our_ home. As in Rachel's and _mine_ Santana. You are our guest."

"Kurt be nice! And my hair is fine!"

"Well..." Santana and Kurt said at the same time.

Rachel pouted as they smiled at each other. "It is _too_ fine." She muttered to herself as she continued to inspect her hair.

* * *

So.

Kurt may have jumped to conclusions on the whole, Santana is a roommate demon from hell thing. The apartment is still standing – no thanks to himself or Rachel – and their lives of takeout and burnt vegan pancakes appear to be over. Apparently, Santana's abuela taught her how to cook – like, _really_ cook – and Kurt hasn't eaten food this good since he was a kid. Not to mention, picking on Rachel – all in good fun and out of love – is much more fun with her. It also helps to keep Rachel's...dramatics in line. It's eerie how one look from Santana can actually silence Rachel Berry. Granted, it's a limited silence, but with Rachel – god love her – he will take what he can get.

Santana Lopez mellows out Rachel Berry. It's a modern day miracle as far as Kurt is concerned. The best part, it works in reverse. Rachel can actually somewhat control Santana; as much as another human being _can_ control Santana.

It's actually freaking Kurt out a little bit.

It's also...oddly...nice? No that's the wrong word. It's not as horrible as Kurt predicted. It's bordering on pleasant, it's...oh hell, Kurt enjoys Santana's company. He enjoys living with her. He enjoys living with Santana Lopez _and_ Rachel Berry.

Life is fucking nuts.

* * *

So.

Rachel was right – per usual – and Kurt is eating his words. A month into their new living arrangement, their practice/study room is now Santana's bedroom and Rachel barges into Kurt's without knocking.

"Rachel!" He yells. "I could have been naked!"

"I've seen you naked." Rachel responds with a shrug. "I was right, I demand you say so."

"What?"

"About Santana. I was right, _I told you so_." Rachel sung gleefully. Kurt huffed and Rachel grinned, then jumped on his bed. "She's a great roommate, with the exception of her constantly going through our things and prying into our lives where she is not wanted and insulting us at every chance she gets; she is perfect."

"Oh sure, with the exception of those highly annoying things, she isn't as horrible a roommate as I thought. Happy now?"

Rachel nodded eagerly. "Very." She cuddled into him and sighed. "I really like being roommates with you guys. I love you guys. Like...I genuinely enjoy this and I wasn't really sure that I would." She admitted.

"What? You..." Kurt sighed and dropped his head against hers. "Whatever."

Rachel looked up as Santana burst through the door. "You bitches are having a cuddle party without me? What the fuck?"

"Would you like to be invited Santana?" Rachel asked with a smile.

Santana crossed her arms and scoffed. "Hell no. But you don't get to not invite me to crap. This is a goddamn trio not a duo."

Rachel's smiled widened. She pushed Kurt over a bit and held her free arm out to Santana. "Of course it is, come join."

"Hell no. I don't do mushy crap." Santana flipped her hair and walked out of the room. Rachel dropped her arm to the bed with a sigh.

"She loves us." Rachel declared.

"Her rejection of our cuddles speaks otherwise."

"She has a reputation to uphold give her time, we'll wear her down."

"NO YOU WON'T." Santana yelled from the living room. Rachel and Kurt laughed. "COME WATCH TV WITH ME!" Santana ordered a minute later.

"See, love." Rachel whispered as they untangled from each other and crawled out of Kurt's bed. "She doesn't want to be away from us."

"HURRY UP BITCHES."

"Oh yeah, I feel incredibly loved." Kurt said.

Rachel slapped him and skipped into the living room to join Santana.

* * *

So.

The Berry-Hummel express is fucking weird. They sing. Like a lot. Santana had anticipated this but it wasn't the same as experiencing it. And they hug. Like...they hug an abnormal amount. They are constantly touching each other, all platonic whatever, but it's just...it's weird.

The weirder thing is that Santana starts to feel left out. They are so connected, and so similar, and she's...not. She's the odd one out in this trio and it pisses her off.

So she decides to ignore them both and stop feeding them and leave the bitches to fend for themselves.

She'd have kept it up too, but the two idiots are pathetic, and whiney, and they really can't keep themselves alive without her help. Like...genuinely can't do it. She doesn't understand how they didn't die in the few months that they lived alone. She's got no ethical problems with murder, but watching the morons wasting away is just a little bit crueler than she would like to be. She _could_ do it, she just decides she doesn't want to.

So while Rachel is at school and Kurt is at his internship thing, Santana makes a feast of the gods. When they come home, they do that shrieking thing that makes her want to scream and try to hug her. She pushes them both away and tells them they can't eat any of the food.

The way Rachel's face falls actually makes Santana feel bad. Kurt's face only bothers her a little.

She doesn't know how she feels about that. So she chooses to ignore it.

"Just kidding." She grins evilly.

All three of them dig in, and...it's weird but they like, actually talk about their days like a family or something and Santana doesn't hate it. Then they both offer to clean up since Santana cooked and they marathon some old school musical documentary thing they've been watching for the last week. Santana doesn't actually end up hating that either.

The worst thing though – the very worst thing – is that Rachel cuddles into her side and Kurt sorta pushes his body right up against hers; and Santana doesn't hate it.

She goes completely ridged and she freaks the fuck out, but she doesn't hate it. "Relax Santana." Rachel scolds. Kurt makes some sort of noise in what must be agreement but Santana mostly stays frozen. She lets them hug her, but she doesn't hug them back.

Not until Rachel's incessant tugging on her arm drives her crazy enough to yell, "WHAT BERRY?"

"I'm cold, share the blanket."

"You could have just said that god."

"Both of you be quiet, they are talking about Judy Garland." Kurt admonishes.

"Shut up Kurt." Santana says while she shoves the blanket at Rachel. Both of them begin to talk at the same time and Santana just rolls her eyes. It's very weird that she doesn't hate it.

"I've made a huge mistake" She mutters and leans back into the couch.


End file.
